


Lifeguard My Heart

by cajous



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Constructive Criticism Welcome, First Meetings, Flirting, Fluff, Injury, Lifeguard!Chan, M/M, Tourist!Minho, minho gets high off of medication and flirts with chan it's honestly great, proofread once we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 13:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20098210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cajous/pseuds/cajous
Summary: Minho didn't expect to dislocate his shoulder on a beach in Australia and get high off a green whistle. Chan, your resident hot Bondi Beach lifeguard, definitely makes up for it.





	Lifeguard My Heart

When Changbin suggested going overseas for summer break, Minho expected a quick hop over to Japan or China, not the heated jungle that was Australia. But he wasn’t complaining. Changbin, his ever so kind (and rich) best friend had paid for his and Woojin’s tickets and hotels, so Minho was determined to be the best hyung this kid has ever had. 

“Changbinnie, have I ever mentioned to you how much I love you?” Minho sang out, an arm swung over Changbin’s shoulders as Woojin walked beside him. 

Changbin rolled his eyes playfully, “You only started when I paid for our trip, hyung.” 

“I don’t think I would’ve ever come to Australia otherwise,” Woojin chimed in, “Hey, I think the beach is coming up.” 

“What was the name again? _ Bended Beach _?” Minho attempted. 

“_ Bondi Beach _. It’s literally one of the best beaches in the world, how the hell did you forget the name?” Woojin asked. 

“Jetlag.”

“Sydney is only an hour ahead of Seoul.” 

“I stand by my point.” 

“Guys, shut up. We need to find a place to put our stuff down,” Changbin sighed, caught between the crossfire of his bickering hyungs and desperately wanting to put an end to it. 

They stepped onto the beach, flip flops sinking into the white sand and the smell of the South Pacific Ocean wafting into their nostrils. Dots of people populated the beach, sunbathing under the scorching sun, playing with friends, or simply lounging around. The sounds of shrill screams from children are muffled by the crashing waves and the squawks of overhead birds. It was really hot. 

“I’m sweating already!” Minho whined, his rashguard sticking uncomfortably to his skin. 

“I think I see some spots down by the water,” Woojin pointed off to the distance. He and Changbin started to make their way, leaving Minho behind to deal with his beach woes. The sun was burning its signature into his exposed skin and scorching hot, sun-fueled sand found their way into Minho’s flip flops with each step he took on the beach. 

When Minho caught up to his friends, they started to weave through the chaotic crowds of people. In the distance, he heard a faint roar of an engine coming from behind. “You guys hear that?” 

Changbin turned his head in the direction of the noise. “Oh, it’s a guy in a buggy. I think we’re in his way.”

“He’s one of the lifeguards,” Woojin pointed out as they prematurely shuffled away to allow easier passage for the guy. “Did you know there’s a whole TV series about them?” 

“Seriously?” Changbin asked. As they discussed the TV show, Minho couldn’t help but crane his towards the lifeguard on the buggy. His loose fitting, blue rash guard made him stand out from the crowd, but that wasn’t the only thing that attracted Minho’s attention. Even from a slight distance, Minho could gauge his broad shoulders and his slightly bronzed skin that contrasted against black hair. And those _ lips _. He was coming closer by the second which did not help the panic that Minho was in. Fuck, were they making eye contact right now? 

“_ \- headed down there right now. See if you can - _”

Minho wasn’t the best at English, but the guy’s Australian drawl while speaking into his radio really spoke to Minho’s heart even if he didn’t understand a word. As quick as he came, the man on the buggy left them behind. He was so captivated that he didn’t notice the cheeky looks on Woojin and Changbin. 

“Minho hyung, something catch your eye?” Changbin asked with a shit-eating grin. 

“All I have to say is a shirtless lifeguard would have been much better,” Minho said, “The couple down there is leaving, let’s take their place.” 

They practically ran to claim their stake. It was at a fair distance from the water where it wouldn’t get wet, but they could also watch over their stuff while playing in the ocean. An instructional surfing class was going on in the water beside them and, by the look of it, they were first-timers, constantly losing their balance or wiping out. 

“Last one in the water pays for dinner tonight!” Changbin suddenly yelled out, taking off and diving into the sea. Woojin screamed and followed Changbin’s lead, drenching himself in seawater to avoid the debt that would occur. 

“This is pitted against me!” Minho cried. 

“Absolutely not, I don’t understand what you mean,” Changbin retorted, wading out deeper. 

Woojin laughed, “Minho-ya, the water isn’t that deep. At least get your legs wet if you’re that scared.” 

“I’m not scared!” Minho stood up straighter but floundered again when he watched his friends reach mid-chest level, “Stop going out further, I can’t swim!” 

“Just a little, hyung,” Changbin coaxed. 

Minho wasn’t a coward. His mom didn’t raise him to be a little pussy, but she also didn’t sign him up for swim classes. Highly uncomfortable at the thought of drowning, he took steps into the South Pacific until the water was level at his knees. The waves rocked him back and forth, nearly sweeping him off his feet. To his right, the surfing class of chaos continued. 

Woojin cheered and splashed water towards Minho. Changbin, however, was not done with his hyung. “Hyung! Come on, a bit more.” 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Minho bemoaned. He stepped forward even more, arms held above the water as the water lapped at above his navel, “If I drown, I’m holding you guys liable!”

The waves were even stronger, crashing over themselves and knocking into Minho’s body, sending mists of salty water into his face. “Why is sea water so salty-”

“Watch out!” 

The next time Minho opened his eyes was underwater, salt stinging his eyes and unconsciously gulping in seawater. 

Minho knew the destructive surf lesson was a foreshadowing of things to come. A man had attempted to catch a small, breaking wave to his right and wiped out completely, crashing into Minho’s smaller body and acting like a weight to drag them both down. In Minho’s struggle to stand upright, his right arm caught the torso of the man. A slip, a pop, and pain. White-hot torture flashed in his shoulder and caused him to swallow more seawater. 

The wave passed and Minho was able to gain his bearings and find his footing on the sand. His left arm came to rub the water out of his face as his legs automatically moved to get out of the waves. He was violently coughing and gagging, his body trying to get the water out of his lungs and stomach. A sturdy arm, Woojin, wrapped around Minho’s middle and helped him to the edge of the water, where he promptly collapsed onto his knees. His shoulder was _ killing _ him. 

One look told Minho that it was bad. The shoulder was sticking out at an odd angle. He couldn’t move it; the slightest jostle nearly sent him doubling over from pain. 

“Are you ok? I’m so sorry, hyung. I shouldn’t have made you come out,” Changbin gasped out, rubbing Minho’s back as he continued to hack out water from his system. He would’ve attempted a coherent sentence to reassure him, but a pair of legs interrupt his vision. 

Oh, God. The blue rashguard, plump lips, bronze skin, black hair, and kind eyes, now kneeling down to study Minho’s suffering face. This was some cruel joke. 

“_ Hey, you alright mate? _” 

***

Chan was content. Today was a gorgeous day; the sun was beaming down without a cloud in the sky, warming and tingling his skin nicely. His supervisors and buddies were in a good mood today, cracking jokes and messing around with each other in the tower that overlooked Bondi Beach. And, unlike his friends from high school who were stuck with retail jobs, he actually _ really _ enjoyed being a lifeguard. Sure, taking the examinations (writing and physical) was tough, but being a highly competitive swimmer and having surfing as his side hobby provided him the skills he needed. He loved helping people out and being a lifeguard provided the perfect opportunity to do so. Even if he was leaving for South Korea at the end of the summer, he was determined to make the best of his remaining time. 

“_ Hey Chris, we’re putting you on buggy duty in the afternoon, _” his supervisor had told him after he helped with opening. 

“_ Yeah, no problem _,” Chan had replied, secretly ecstatic that he didn’t have to be stuck in the tower on a beautiful Saturday. Buggy duty was relatively easy. All he had to do was look out for the dumbasses who didn’t swim between the flags or listen to reports coming in over the radio. 

The afternoon proved to be Bondi Beach’s peak time, a huge influx of people flocking to the beaches to soak in the sun at its maximum height, and Chan didn’t blame them. He noticed all sorts of people as he drove back and forth along the beach - children, the elderly, youths on their summer breaks, and everything in between. 

Tourists came all too often and Chan usually spared them a quick glance at most. Ahead in his path were three East Asian tourists, presumably finding a spot to relax. He nearly honked his horn but they caught on just in time. 

“_ Hey Chris, where you at right now? _” the static voice of his buddy Maxwell came in through the radio. 

“_ I’m at the south end right, is there- _ ” Chan choked on his spit, doing a double take at the sight in front of him. He did see the three Asian tourists from before, but he didn’t realize how _ beautiful _ one of them was. Granted, all of them were incredibly good looking, above average indeed. But God was this guy a sight to see. He had gorgeous, curious eyes that darted around and red lips that stood out from his pale skin. That nose was sculpted by Aphrodite herself. Chan’s decreasing distance from him only made his heart beat faster. And perhaps making continuous eye contact with him was creepy on Chan’s part; he forced himself to look away. 

Chan cleared his throat, “_ Is there a situation? _” 

“_ Yeah, we’ve gotta couple of patients out on the north end and Tommy needs some assistance, but I don’t think we should leave the south side unattended. _”

“_ Alright, headed down there right now. See if you can get some volunteers out to the north before I get there _.” 

“_ Copy that _.”

Chan placed his radio back and started to slowly accelerate the buggy, telling himself to focus on his job and not on that beautiful creature of a man from before. He hoped Maxwell could find some manpower before he completely left the south beach area. Thankfully, his thoughts were answered when he was ordered back to the south, some other buddies of his running out to assist Tommy. 

“_ First big event of the day, eh? _” Chan joked with Maxwell over the radio. 

“_ Yup, and guess what, they weren’t between the flags! _ ” Maxwell said, “ _ Ambos are on the way for them right now - oh Chris, we’ve got a collision right in front of you _.” 

Right before Maxwell spoke, Chan saw the crash in slow motion before him. “_ Yeah, right on you. _”

“_ It was a big, Caucasian guy in black shorts on the surfboard and an Asian guy in a white shirt, they’re both under. One came up right now! _” 

Chan stopped the buggy right in front of the scene and quickly assessed the situation, grabbing his board just in case of a water rescue. Black shorts popped out of the water and started to wade out with the help of his surfing instructor, but white shirt was nowhere to be seen. Thinking of the worst case scenarios, Chan prepared himself to run to where he was last sighted, but relief coursed through his body when a white shirt ploughed through the surface, gagging and coughing violently. Damn, that was one _ugly_ shoulder. 

“_ Hey you, are you ok? _” Chan yelled out, dropping his white board and approached black shorts. The surfing instructor seemed to have the situation under control, so Chan turned to face the guy who drew the short end of the stick. 

White shirt was assisted out of the water by his friends. Wait, it was the gorgeous boy from before! Pretty Boy collapsed to his knees just as Chan rushed over to him for assessment. 

Chan bent down. “_ Hey, you alright mate? _” It was a dumb question because, no, he obviously was not ok. His black hair was matted down to his face and was violently hacking out water, shivering from the force of his coughs. And his shoulder nearly made Chan gag himself. But subjectively speaking the boy was still incredibly beautiful. 

The said boy blinked up at him, long eyelashes fluttering against his skin and stared at Chan like he was from another universe, “_ I am ok _.” 

“_Your shoulder tells me otherwise, mate. Looks like you’ve dislocated it pretty badly. I’m gonna have to take you back to the tower, yeah?_ _Did you swallow a lot of seawater?_”

“What the hell is the hot guy saying?” the boy moaned out in Korean to Chan’s surprise, looking to his friends for help. 

“He said you dislocated your shoulder and asked if you swallowed seawater,” his shorter friend supplied helpfully. 

“Ah, you’re Korean? I’m Korean too,” Chan said, “Did you swallow a lot of water?” 

The guy spluttered even more on his spit, ears noticeably turning red. “Yeah.” 

“Alright, before we get to the tower we need to get some oxygen in you.” 

Although Pretty Boy was cursing like a sailor on the way to Chan’s buggy, they managed the trek with the help of his friends. Chan sat him down gave him the oxygen mask, brushing over his soft cheeks in the process and feathering over the nape of his neck. And Chan, mind you, was trying to maintain professionalism with his heart battering wildly in his ribcage, so Pretty Boy maintaining eye contact the _whole time_ was definitely not helping. 

“What are your names?” Chan asked in lieu of looking at Pretty Boy’s face. 

“Minho’s the injured one, I’m Woojin and that’s Changbin.” 

“Great to meet you guys, I’m Chan,” Chan said, returning his attention to Minho, “Do you feel like throwing up?” 

“What? No!” Minho replied, voice muffled by the oxygen mask. Colour was coming back to Minho’s face, lips returning to their original tint and a rosy shade covering his cheeks, “My shoulder is absolutely killing me right now, though.” 

“We’ll need to get you to a hospital to fix that,” Chan said, “I think that’s enough oxygen for you.” 

Chan freed Minho’s face from the mask and loaded him in the passenger seat of the buggy. Woojin and Changbin elected to walk to the tower with their stuff to give Minho more space, which the latter was grateful for. 

“_ Hey Maxy, black shorts is fine, just needed a breather. White shirt has a dislocated right shoulder and swallowed some water too but I gave him the O’s already, _ ” Chan radioed in while driving the buggy, “ _ I’m coming back right now, get us an ambo please. _”

“_ Roger that, mister. Give me his info and I’ll write it down. _” 

Chan exchanged information between Minho and Maxwell, switching from Korean to English in seconds and slightly hurting his brain in the process. Chan felt Minho’s gaze on him the entire time and watched him drag his eyes over Chan’s body from his exposed forearms to his chest to his bobbing Adam’s apple. Chan felt his ego increase tenfold. “Like what you see?” 

“No, I mean, kind of,” Minho spluttered, holding his right shoulder and rapidly turning away, “Your, uh, English is really good.” 

Chan laughed, “I was raised here, but thanks.” 

“Right, of course.”

“Why are you guys in Australia right now? Vacation?” Chan asked. 

Minho hummed, “Yeah, summer break. We go to a university back in Korea.”

“Which one?” 

“Seoul University.” 

“No way! I’m going there next semester! What are you studying?” Chan exclaimed. Small talk filled the small buggy on the way to the tower, hopefully taking the pain off of Minho’s mind temporarily. Chan found out that Minho had three cats (Soonie, Doongie, Dori) and wanted to be a vet. Minho, in turn, discovered that Chan was into music, sharing that Changbin had similar interests. Chan caught himself noticing the little things about the stranger next to him - his animated speech and tones, the way his eyes lit up when he talked about his passions, the small smile lines at the corners of his mouth, his scrunching nose when Chan made him laugh. It was pretty dangerous considering he was driving a buggy with an injured patient. 

Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately), they pulled up to the tower. Chan quickly went to Minho’s good side to help him off the buggy and up the stairs leading to the inside, where Chan’s good old buddies were waiting. 

“_ Oi, that’s one _ nasty _ shoulder there _,” Maxwell said, swivelling around in his chair and taking a bite out of his burger. 

“_ Don’t have to tell us twice _,” Chan joked, hurriedly sitting Minho down on the bed for patients.

“_ Better get him the green whistle _.” 

“_ Definitely _. Does your shoulder still hurt?”

Minho groaned. “A ton.” 

“We’ve got something to get rid of the pain,” Chan said, obtaining the cylindrical green medication from the shelf nearby and began the administration process. “Just to make sure, you’re not allergic to anything, right?”

“Nope. What is that?” 

“We call it the green whistle. It’ll help with the pain in your shoulder,” Chan stated, handing the prepared whistle to Minho, “Just suck on it and take the medication in.” 

Chan watched as Minho fondled with the whistle, quirking a playful eyebrow and bringing it to his lips, “Suck, you say?” 

“Yeah, make sure to take deep breaths,” Chan said stiffly, feigning innocence and willing away the blush rising to his cheeks. 

Minho rolled his eyes with a smirk but wrapped his lips around the end, taking in a breath as Chan instructed and exhaling through his nose. Chan felt his eyes being drawn to Minho’s pouted lip ring surrounding the whistle end and found Minho’s prolonged eye contact with him incredibly unnecessary. He didn’t need a son of Aphrodite looking up at him like _ that _. Chan reminded himself of his professionalism and was determined to remain undeterred by Minho’s obvious (but not unwelcomed) advances, but he couldn’t help his blush this time that went all the way to his toes. 

Minho, between sucking on his whistle, said, “Whoa, this thing is working.” 

“Well, yeah, that’s the point of it,” Chan smiled. “I think the ambulance will be here soon.” 

“Wait, hold on. I can’t pay for that!” Minho exclaimed suddenly. 

“Do you have travel insurance?” 

“I don’t think so,” Minho sighed, “An ambulance trip and hospital fees are gonna hurt my poor, poor student bank.”

Chan winced. “I’m so sorry, but there isn’t anything we can do. At least they’ll fix your shoulder?” 

“I’d rather fly back to Korea right now and get my shoulder fixed there!” Minho exclaimed. Chan noticed the slur in Minho’s words and his languid, relaxed body. It was a clear sign the whistle was working, but the side effects that came along with it were also starting to show itself. Chan just hoped Minho wouldn’t do anything in his high state. 

“Hey, relax, I’m sure something will come up,” Chan attempted weakly, trying to calm him down. 

Chan didn’t like the way Minho’s eyes brightened and skimmed Chan’s arms. “Can’t you try? You’re trained and all, right?” 

“Well, uh, yeah, but I’m not a trained paramedic, so I can’t put your shoulder back for you, sorry.”

Minho pouted, chin bunched up and eyebrows raised, “Hyung, please! You have the muscles to do it, just look at yourself.” 

“‘Hyung’?” Chan choked. They had already established that Chan was a year older in their buggy talk, but he didn’t expect Minho to switch to familiar terms already. And it wasn’t like anyone, including his younger brother, called him that in Australia, so he was admittedly surprised but accepted it nonetheless. He looked down at his crossed arms, forearms flexing and the curves of his biceps showing through his t-shirt. “And I don’t think I have a lot of muscles.” 

“Oh no, you liar,” Minho shook his head, reaching out with his index finger from his good side and poking Chan’s bicep. “I can tell you work out at the gym, anyone can. Hell, no one would complain if you ran around the beach shirtless.” 

It was at this moment Chan registered the presence of two new figures in the doorway beside them. Woojin and Changbin. The former was carrying all their belongings and the latter was holding up his cellphone, presumably recording Minho’s drunk advances to show and embarrass him later. Chan smiled at them, hoping they took it as his consent to having his video being taken. 

“Thanks for saying that, Minho. I really appreciate it,” Chan humoured, grabbing onto Minho’s hovering hand and gently holding it in place so the younger wouldn’t jostle his right side too much. That was the excuse his brain generated for him, anyway. 

Minho wiggled his eyebrows, still incredibly slurring his words, “Mmm, does hyung want to hold my hand?” Minho interlocked their fingers together, “I kinda wanna take you out now. When you get to Seoul, I’ll bring you to all the best places. I practically live there!”

“Yes Minho, you do live there,” Chan indulged with a chuckle. 

“You look good when you laugh. You have a dimple that shows when you smile, did you know? It’s kinda cute,” Minho guided both his and Chan’s linked hands to poke where his dimple was. 

“Thank you, Minho.” 

“Chan hyung, you should try bleaching your hair! I bet you’d look good in it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind when I get to Seoul.” 

“Oh, there’s this cat cafe in Seoul that I’ve always wanted to go to but I never found the time. I’m gonna take Channie hyung with me. You can come to my house in Gimpo to see my cats too, Soonie and Doongie and Dori.” 

“I can’t wait, Minho,” Chan said, hoping Minho would actually take him to the cafe. Or anywhere, really. 

“_ Hey lovebirds, the paramedics are here. Sorry to break it, Romeo and Juliet _,” Maxwell suddenly said, burger completed but crumbs still lining his mouth. 

“_ Thanks, man. And wipe your mouth, you got stuff there _,” Chan said. “Minho, the ambulance is here.”

“Aw, I wanted to talk to hyung longer,” Minho whined, clutching onto Chan’s hand. The aforementioned paramedics peeked their heads into the tower and started towards the injured boy. Woojin and Changbin, who stopped recording, stepped to the side. 

“You can come visit later, yeah?” Chan bargained, a little saddened himself that his time with Minho was up. The paramedics questioned Minho on what happened, Chan gladly translating the information and watched Minho hobble to the ambulance. Woojin and Changbin thanked him and apologized on Minho’s behalf and followed behind. One last wave from Minho and he was gone. 

***

Minho got to relive all his memories thanks to his wonderful best friends. 

“No, I _ didn’t _,” Minho gaped. He was in the emergency room, shoulder already popped back in place and waiting for the ER staff to place a sling. Minho was coming back into reality, clearly remembering the traumatic collision and the buggy ride with Chan, but his mind went foggy when he started sucking the green whistle. He hoped that he didn’t do anything stupid considering the outlandish acts he does when drunk. 

“Oh yes you _ did _,” Woojin replied, “You were all up on him and your mouth censor was not in place.” 

“Proof or it didn’t happen.” 

“We have all the proof right here,” Changbin smirked while gripping his cellphone in his hand. If they weren’t in a hospital, Minho would’ve screeched and tackled him to the ground. 

“Burn it,” Minho hissed at the offending object. Just as a nurse came in to place Minho in a sling, Changbin hit play on the video. Now he had an audience, great.

Minho on the screen looked like an absolute _ mess _. His hair was wet and windswept in all sorts of directions. Was that sand in his hair too? His shoulder was a gruelling sight to see so he decided to skip over that detail. Minho’s heart jumped when he saw his and Chan’s linked hands and the way Chan was smiling at him, eyes softened with a fond look of adoration as Minho went on his tangent. Speaking of Minho’s tangent, he regretted all the things he said. Maybe he should’ve drowned back on the beach. Yeah, sinking to the ocean floor seemed very appealing right now. 

“I cannot believe I said that to his face,” Minho cried. His shoulder was now supported, thanks to the nurse, so he was given the all clear to go home, “I looked so _ bad _ in front of him too. Why didn’t you guys punch me and shut me up? I’ll just die right here, thanks.”

“Hey, he seemed pretty interested in you too,” Woojin tried. 

“You looked like you crawled up from the depths of hell but he was looking at you like you were a fucking sweet, summer child that hung the stars or some shit,” Changbin growled. 

“That was poetic, you better write that one down,” Minho shot weakly back at him. But he couldn’t help the nagging feeling. Was Chan, his sweet Chan, not put off by his ungodly, injured appearance and bold advances? “I better make it up to him tomorrow.” 

***

Last night, Chan had a dream that he and Minho were having a sunset picnic on the sandy beaches of Bondi, feeding each other cheese on crackers and giggling at mundane things, sipping wine from glasses with their legs tangled together. 

So, yeah, it was a bit of a shocker when the man of his dreams showed up at the tower around noon, sling and all with a plastic bag and his two friends. “Hi, Chan hyung.” 

“Oh, hey Minho!” Chan greeted, ears already turning red. The Minho from yesterday with the messy hair and dislocated shoulder was pretty, but the Minho today was even more gorgeous. 

Minho smiled sheepishly, “Is the ‘hyung’ ok? I thought it was ok after yesterday’s fiasco, but-”

“No!” Chan interrupted. “No, no, it’s totally fine, I’m cool with it. How’s your shoulder?” 

“It’s a lot better now thanks to you. And I’m really sorry for what happened yesterday and for anything I said. I hope I didn’t disturb you from your job too much,” Minho apologized, “I have some chocolates here to thank you.” 

“It really wasn’t a problem, you made my day yesterday, maybe my entire summer,” Chan said, unsure whether that bordered on flirting or not, “You didn’t have to get chocolates for me, though.” 

“No, please take it. You deserve it,” Minho said, “There’s a little something more inside too if you look carefully enough.”

Chan reluctantly took the bag, “Thanks Minho. I hope you guys enjoy the rest of your vacation!” 

“Thanks, Chan hyung. We’ll see you soon,” Minho replied, waving at him just like he did yesterday. 

Later, when his shift was over, Chan opened up the plastic bag. The chocolates were there, kept cool by the air conditioning in the tower. But at the bottom of the bag lay a piece of paper, written in hurriedly in black pen - 

_ Hey Chan hyung! Thanks again for everything. Here’s my number and KakaoTalk if you ever want to contact me :) _

_ 02-312-3456, @leeminknow _

***

_ >>>Hey Minho, it’s Chan from Bondi Beach _

_ hey chan! did you like the chocolates?<<< _

_ thanks for helping out there again, i really owe you more than chocolates<<< _

_ >>>I really did, thanks for them! My buddies at most of them tho, sorry :( _

_ >>>How’s your shoulder? It’s going to be a pain when you’re travelling back to Korea _

_ no worries haha<<< _

_ yeah, it will but i’ll be fine! thanks for asking<<< _

_ >>>That’s good to hear. What about hospital fees? You said you didn’t have travel insurance _

_ changbin’s covernig for me<<< _

_ said it was his fault ahahha<<< _

_ >>>Omg haha he’s a good friend _

_ you’re coming to south korea for uni right?<<< _

_ >>>Yup! _

_ i’ll give you more chocolates when you come :))))<<< _

_ and i can give you a campus tour if you want<<< _

_ >>>That’d be awesome! _

_ >>>So I’ll see you soon, then? _

_ most definitely.<<< _

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! leave a kudo or a comment if you want :))
> 
> hit me up on [twitter](https://twitter.com/skimminh) and lets be mutualsss


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